Nick looked offended. ‘If I had, I would tell you. Mind you, sometimes when they talking, and I go to the table, they stop suddenly – so maybe they don’t want me to hear what they saying.’ He made to get up. ‘If that is all, I need to start cleaning up now.’

‘There’s just a couple of other things . . .’ Jane started to say.

Nick sighed. ‘I already tell you all I know.’

‘Do you know what types of cars any of the men drive?’ she asked.

‘I far too busy to look out the window and see what they drive.’

‘The newsagent’s on the corner of Moorfield Road – do you know the owner?’ Teflon asked.

‘Si, Paki Pete, he a good guy.’

‘Is he trustworthy?’

Nick nodded. ‘One hundred per cent.’

‘I notice you had an advert in the window for a waitress,’ Jane said.

‘Si, but nobody applies yet. Why you ask?’

‘Would you be willing to let me work undercover in your cafe for a few days?’

He looked surprised. ‘Is no an easy job, and might be obvious to these men you after them if you make a mistake, you understand?’

‘I did quite a bit of waitressing before I joined the police, so I know how to take orders and serve tables.’

‘OK, if it help you find the bastardi who shoot the policeman, the job is yours. When you want to start?’

‘Monday morning?’

‘OK, I see you here at six, you can have a little practice, familiarise yourself with the menu, then we open at seven.’

He got up to show them out.

*

As soon as they got back to Tottenham Police Station, Teflon checked the names George and Carl Ripley on the PNC, on the assumption that they might be father and son, while Jane rang Cam to update him.

‘Me and Teflon have spoken to Nick and—’

Cam wasn’t listening. ‘Murphy wants everyone back here now for a meeting.’

‘Why, what’s happened?’

‘I can’t explain it all on the phone. Let’s just say there have been a few interesting developments.’

‘Did you get a result on that phone number or the Wilson twins?’

‘Yes, and I’ve spoken to the two children’s homes.’

‘What did they say?’

‘I’ll tell you when you get back.’

‘You haven’t done it, have you?’ she snapped.

‘I have, Sarge, so stop getting your knickers in a twist and get back here.’

She was about to make an angry retort, but he’d put the phone down.

‘Everything all right, Jane?’

‘That bloody Cam’s a rude, lazy sod.’

‘I won’t argue with that.’

‘Still, looks like the others have got some good results. Murphy said he wants us all back at the office asap, so we better get going.’

‘I’ve run the name George Ripley on the PNC with a forty-five to fifty-five age spread and got a few possible hits—’